Save Me from the Dark
by Lycthem
Summary: Sometimes life gives us too much to handle and makes us feel there's nothing we can do to change it. [malon pov] [complete]
1. My Purpose

June 27, 2003

Note: I made a challenge for myself to write something in thirty minutes listening only to one song. Well, here it is, some angsty Malon written accompanied by Evanescence's _Bring me to life._ If you listen to the song while reading it will set the mood perfectly. It's fairly short and I'm not that content with it but it was a challenge and I don't want to go and re-read it too much or I will end up changing everything and will negate the whole idea of the challenge. This is not very much edited so all errors are, of course, mine. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Do not sue. 

**Save Me from the Dark**

They think they know me. 

They look at me and create their pathetic little tale to tell the story of poor Malon from Lon Lon Ranch. They invent reasons for the simplest things that are none of their concern and try to explain everything that I do. 

I don't need that.  

They don't know anything. They make me seem like a small little girl whose life has been so poorly handled and is forced to live in a ranch and tend to cows and chickens and her lazy bum father. It makes me sick. 

I don't assume I know the story of the man in the Archery Shop, and I most certainly don't know the tale behind the girl with the cuckoos. And I don't waste my time thinking up tales for them, I don't spend my time telling rumors about them. 

I just want them to leave me alone. 

Is that too much to ask?

I shift the weight of the bottles from my left hand to my right hand and continue walking. I'll be arriving Kakariko in a few minutes and I sigh. There was a time I didn't bother with such thoughts. I was carefree. I was innocent. I was a child. What I wouldn't give to be that carefree again. You spend your childhood dreaming you're a grown person, thinking up ways to be more mature, and when you finally reach that time, you yearn for nothing more than to spend some time without any of the worries that being an adult concerns. Not that I consider myself an adult, I'm only sixteen, but it takes incredible effort to remain a child in these circumstances.  I look at the guard in the entrance and half-smile; I have to keep my mask on. 

The buzz of activity inside makes it much easier to slip my mask on. Everyone seems so cheerful. I wonder how many are like me. I walk steadily towards the shop while smiling at the people who smile first. This is an unusual delivery, but the other bottles of milk broke when someone let them fall.  The bottles rattle besides me and I go on. This is, after all, my life. And I'm used to it, I guess. 

After the milk delivery, which took the same amount of time as usual, I walk outside. I have no tasks to do for the day but I don't want to spend my time in this place. I walk out and head towards the tree on this side of the small river. It's an open spot but I don't like it because of it, I like it because I can see the people coming out of Kakariko and have a view of the things going on in the castle. These are dark times to be living in, now that the castle has been taken over by Ganondorf, and people don't trust as much. Those in Kakariko smile and go on as if nothing's happened; the growing threat of the castle taking them unawares. I hope they realize this is serious.  I hope they realize they can die. That staying in their little town won't save them from anything; it will only delay the inevitable. 

I sit under the tree and look around. I can just feel today is going to be one of those days. 

I can tell by the time I wake up that's it's about to turn dark and that I should be heading home soon. I didn't count on falling asleep, but I should've seen it coming. It's been a few days since I slept peacefully. Things are just not as easy. When I reach my room, tired and exhausted again, I fall on my bed and stare at the pale yellow walls. It's happening again and I don't think I can stop it. 

A few years back I was hit with a small depression. Everything was just too overwhelming, and with the absence of my father, the comic relief of my life, I didn't handle it too well. I was being overworked, and though Uncle Ingo tried his best not to do it, I guess it was not in his nature to be that considerate. I started losing weight and couldn't sleep at night. There were bags under my eyes and I was almost always dizzy. My appetite decreased, I couldn't focus on anything and the nightmares were a nightly ritual. I cried for the littlest things and life was too much of a bother to be worth living. It was around the time I noticed the rumors concerning myself and the ranch, and only the thought of tending my precious horses kept me sane. I dedicated all my time to them and focused on them so hard I overcame that.  But now I didn't even have the energy to care about them...

I don't think most horses are that perceptive, but Epona, my favourite, had been more serene lately. It was as if she was trying not to be a bother to me. I hugged my legs close to me and closed my eyes. I couldn't be depressed now; my birthday will be coming up. But somehow not even that was enough to cheer me up. 

The next day I'm sitting in the same place under the tree, this time with an old diary in my hands. It was my mother's and she wrote in it when things where at their polars. Either when she was happy enough to write or sad enough to try to. She wrote that it was going to be a therapy of sorts, so that when she was older she could see how balanced her life was. I think it was because she didn't want to write much when she was sad, but most of the entries consist of happy moments. There's her first kiss, her first date, her marriage to daddy, my birth, so many happy moments for her. A stray recipe. And then there are the sad moments, the death of someone, fights, and illness. 

It's horrible how life plays those ironic tricks on people. If you don't want to live you become the healthiest person, but when you've so much to life, so much to give, when you're literally a walking happy bubble life gives you this horrible deal. It's like they only want the good people to live for a short amount of time. They make the good people suffer so much, and still they appreciate life, they want to keep living. Some people are just that good that they would save the world without a second thought. I don't think I could do that. I don't think I'm a very good person. Not that I don't appreciate myself, but if I had to do something noble I don't think I would be very willing. I can dream up all I want, but I just don't think I could do it. 

I hold the diary close to my chest and breathe in. I'll be crying any second now. It makes me sound like a wimp and a crybaby, but it's just too much. People my age shouldn't be living through this hell. In fact, no. No one should be living through this hell. Fearing the darkness, afraid for their lives. Trying to remember when the last time you were happy was only to realize you can't remember. Because it was so long ago. And if you do the memory is not enough. Afraid to be yourself. And not only afraid, but pretending it's all right. No wonder those people in Kakariko pretend. They have nothing else. 

Why does life have to be so unfair?

Why can't things go back to normal?

Why does this have to happen right now?

I look around the darkening sky and see a horse on the horizon. There's a man on top and he looks around. 

_Go away_, I think. _You don't want to be here. _

As he rides towards Castle Town I see that it's Epona he's riding. But I don't have the energy to stand up. She wouldn't go with a complete stranger but no one I know would go in there. He dismounts and walks inside, and I recognize the green tunic. Oh, Goddesses. It's that... Fairy boy.  I close my eyes and lean back.  I try to care that he's going inside and probably never coming back, but it's too much. I try to stand up and yell at him before he goes in; that only trouble brews there. I try to say something. But I can't. It's too late and he's gone. I can't help anyone now.   

I can't help anyone if I can't even help myself.  

I can't help anyone if I don't care enough about it to make the effort. 

And what scares me the most is...

...I don't think I have it in me to ever care.


	2. My Mission

June 29, 2003 

**Note: **I read this. And re-read this. A lot. And I'm still not sure if everything is in the same verb tense. But, I tried. If you find something please tell me because, I don't think it's very nice to read something in different tenses. But, here it is. The next part. 

And thanks to Cherry6124 for reviewing, this chapter's for you. 

**Save Me from the Dark**

CONTINUATION 

It's like sharp, cold needles falling against my skin. I close my eyes and move my head from side to side. The water is exceptionally cold this morning but it doesn't stop me from taking a long shower. I scrub my skin hard leaving red marks, the nightmare I had earlier now fading from my mind leaving behind only the slightly disconcerted feeling of been watched. I drop the soap on the side, finish rinsing and close the tap. Carefully, I step out and wrap the towel around me. Walking towards the mirror I pick up the brush and look at myself in the mirror. 

I can't even recognize myself anymore. Where was the happy girl that used to wake up every morning and sing in the shower? Where was the sweet girl who smiled no matter what and always had a kind word for everyone? Where was that innocence? Where was that hope?

"It ran out." I murmured, answering my own question. "Just like everything else." 

I untangle my hair with greater strength and when I finish I throw the brush into the sink. Looking fleetingly at my refection in the mirror with a glare I walk into my room. This is just so stupid. 

As I put on my dress I run that sentence over and over in my head. Stupid. Everything is stupid now. _Everyone_ is stupid. That makes me laugh and I stop thinking so morbidly. Anyone with access to my brain would think I'm suicidal. …. I'm not. Really. When I'm done dressing I walk downstairs but don't feel like making breakfast. I continue walking, out the door and towards the cows. 

It's not rare that Mr. Ingo is still sleeping. He usually wakes up in time for midday meal. A meal _I_ have to prepare for him, one of the reasons I'm still allowed in the ranch. That and most of the horses only answer to me and I'm the only one the cows allow to milk them. It's easy to let go of your thoughts in this normal routine. I've been doing this for as long as I was allowed, or rather, for as long as it was noticeable that I could be beneficial. With careful precision that can only be borne after long hours of doing the same task again and again; I milk the cows. When I'm done I walk back out and watch the suns early rays. 

A few months ago I might've described the way its rays opened through the clouds, or how the colour tones matched or something ridiculously poetic, but now I look at it with the same calculated eyes I watch everything else. How it would've killed my father to see me like this. He might seem like a person who lost his way in life, and in a way, I guess he was, but he was always looking for the best in things. He looked at the glass half full. And I suppose that was his life, a half full glass, it might be half full, but it was still only half. You can't do much with only half of a person. 

When I reach the centre of the ranch, I look around and see Epona isn't back. What does surprise me is that Mr. Ingo isn't sleeping. I see him in the ring running a brush through a black horse he favours. Confused, I walk towards him. He stopped _doing_ this years ago. Not daring to believe what's happening I'm a few steps away from him before I notice he's humming. I stop walking and after seconds he stops humming. I wait for him to turn around and say something scathing something that he thinks will make me turn and cry but will only make me colder. But he doesn't turn. I'm about to speak when he beats me to it. 

"He loves attention." He says softly in that gruff voice of his. "He loves being treated with care. And … I just… forgot that."

I keep silent, unsure of how long this will last, when he answers two of the questions I wanted to ask.

"I challenged that boy in green. And I lost." He stops brushing for a second then continues, chuckling softly. "Twice. And he tamed that wild horse you like so much. He won it, too. I'm sorry."

"She'll come back. And we can share, I don't mind." I answer.

He nods as if understanding, and continues, "Would you believe that it was as if I was under a spell? That everything I never dreamed I could do, not only was I doing it, but I was enjoying it immensely?" 

I don't answer back, but I don't think he notices. Ignoring me, he pockets the brush and mounts the black horse. Only when he's stable does he look at me and smiles. A bit disconcerted, I smile back half-heartedly. 

"Some fresh air would be nice." He says and leaves. 

I don't think I've ever had such a conversation with anyone before. And I don't think I've ever seen Mr. Ingo so calm. Calm or not, his behaviour is not enough to make me change. It's nice someone's happy, it means they have the ability to be strong and heal. I don't want to heal right now. I don't think I deserve to.

After a few hours, when the sun has set in and everything is lighted, I leave the ranch. It never bothered me to leave the place open before, closing the doors, windows, locking everything. But this time I don't forget. If there's anything these past years have taught me is that people can change. Sometimes for the worst. I don't want to discover that someone I thought was nice once, stole something of mine. When I'm done, I head towards my usual spot grabbing a few stones along the way. 

When I reach the bridge, I consider throwing them over, but decide against it. Sitting under the tree I place them on my lap and start throwing them. With every one I throw I gain more strength and each one lands further. Someone might say I was throwing my anger out, others might say it was a way to relieve stress, for me? Well, I just had nothing else to do. I am running out of stones when one of the last ones hit a former castle guard. I have seen him a few times in Kakariko, mostly telling the most elaborate tall tales he could come up with to anyone who would listen to him. When the stone hits him, right in the back of the head, he turns to me with a frightened expression. At first I think he is afraid one of the carpenter's had thrown a rock at him, since he had been followed a lot by them after they noticed he was lying, but then his gaze goes up towards Death Mountain. He runs away and I look up. 

The mountain is throwing more than it's usual amount of smoke and a few, quite a few, red sparks, something that could only be lava, is coming out. For one stupid second I think I'm going to die, and I panic. Then of course I realize if it indeed is going to explode, it won't matter if I run. It would catch up with me since I wasn't fast enough. So, I resign myself to watch the unbelievable spectacle. I know it is something I would only see this once and I try to memorize everything. If I was to die now, then I would die with the thought of one of the most incredible things that could happen. It's been centuries since it last erupted, so much that it was considered not to be active anymore. When it booms, for there is no other word for it, I lean forward in anticipation. Simply majestic. 

Then it stops.

I'm holding my breath, and it takes a while for me to realize. Letting it go with a puff, I stare at the mountain emotionless. Looking down at a stone I was holding, so hard the marks were on my hand, I throw it in the general direction of Death Mountain. 

_Boom. _I mouth. And laugh. 

One would think that after thinking your life is about to end, when you're depressed and stuff, that it would make you realize that life is worth living. That you have so much to live for. As I lay on my bed that afternoon, I don't think any of that. I think about my father, what he must be doing, I think of the old hag that lives near the lake, and I think about the princess, she who left so long ago. When this all started. 

_You should've warned the people, princess. _

I look at the ceiling and my vision starts to fog. Blinking I swear I can see a face before everything turns white.

Everything looks startlingly white, and I close my eyes for a few minutes. I don't wonder much about why I'm suddenly standing up when seconds ago I was laying down, but instead I try to look for something. I don't know why, but I'm looking for something. 

"Malon." A genderless voice whispers behind me. My first instinct after turning around is to hit whatever is there. But there's nothing. 

"Malon." It says again, but this time is unmistakably the voice of a female. Then I see her. If I hadn't seen that picture so much, I never would've recognized her. She would've seemed familiar, but I wouldn't have made the connection. I shake my head. This isn't real. Live people can't see dead people. That doesn't happen. 

"My little girl." She says smiling. "Don't worry."

I open my mouth to say something, but somehow you just don't know _what to say to a person who's been dead for so long. Who's been dead, period. I mean, you think about it, but you never actually think it's going to happen. _

"This is a dream. This is a dream. Wake up Malon." I say to myself. This will all end quickly and I will wake up and…

"Perhaps." 

"Perhaps, what?"

"Perhaps, this is a dream. Maybe, you will wake up now. Perchance, this is just in your imagination. I don't know."

"You're mocking me? My own dream figment is mocking me?"

"Malon." She starts again. "Just listen to this. I know you're sad, and I know you think you're going through this alone. And in a way you are. But you're so much better off than many other people. Some have such heavy things to carry. And I don't wish what you're going through on anyone, but sometimes we just need to let go of such things. Please. There are some things you have yet to do in the world, my dear girl, and if you're not here to do them… Just think about all the good things you can do. You have to have people in your life who support you. No matter who you are. Don't shy away from them. I have to go now."

The next thing I remember is something I hadn't received since I was a little girl. A kiss on the forehead. 

Maybe it was a dream. Maybe I made that up. Maybe I wanted to believe everything my--, everything she said, but moments later when I wake up my weigh doesn't seem that heavy. I don't think I'm recovered, I'm not that dumb. But I think I just needed a little push. And even if it was from my subconscious, rather than my mother, it's still something. Isn't it?

It helps, doesn't it?

Oh, _who am I fooling_?

It's still light outside so I know I wasn't asleep a long time, but the days I spent awake catch up to me and I don't feel like getting out of bed. Pressing the pillow against my face I try to scream, but end up choking. Dammit, I can't even do this right. And that sounds so stupid in my head, I start to cry. And it's like this dam broke and all my tears were set free, and I just can't stop crying. I curl up in a ball and try to keep it down. 

Oh yeah, my inner sarcasm says, because a dream can make you change. 

A dream can just take away your problems. 

But a dream is just that, a dream. Something you yearn for that can never be true. Because then, it wouldn't be a dream, now would it?

Oh Din, I need help. 

…Please?


	3. My Choice

Save Me from the Dark

It is easier to make someone believe something that isn't there is, than to make them believe something that is there isn't.

I read that once in a book, and I remember it now clearly. It was written as a foot note, tiny letters I had to squint to see, and almost entirely faded. But the words, they rang so deeply in me, that I knew I would never forget them. Those words were the reason I doubted my mother in my dream, and they were also the reason I doubted seeing the fairy boy a few days ago. Right now, it's as if I can see them floating in the air. Tempting me. 

When I woke up this morning, it was with the same lethargic enthusiasm as all the other times. I went through my daily routines and expected nothing to be out of order. Just another day, a few changes in the people, but over all the same. I wasn't expecting anything different. Of course, that's exactly what the Goddesses had decided was to happen. Big Elba, the biggest cow in the ranch, though not the best milk provider, was dead. 

So I stand now, thinking those words, mulling them over in my mind. As far back as I can remember Big Elba had been in the ranch. She was the worst cow to milk, I never liked milking her, but I never expected to see her dead. I know that's ridiculous, after all, a cow doesn't have the same life expectancy as a human, and if I weren't to see her die, then she was to see _me_ die. And that would mean I'd have to die young. And looking at her there I realized, I didn't want to die young.

Minutes later I realize I haven't moved since I entered the small tower, and that it's starting to reek. Or maybe the stench was there for a while and I was only beginning to smell it. A bit unstable, I walk out the door and look around for Mr. Ingo. I make a hasty scan over the ranch, and I don't see him. _What if he didn't come back?_ I shake my head. Silly thoughts. Why wouldn't he come back? He _lives_ here. 

I run as quickly as my dress allows, and reach the stable. He's in there, taking his horse out and once he looks at my disheveled self, frowns.

"What happened?" he asks, leading the horse out carefully. 

I gasp, trying to catch my breath. It's been a while since I ran so much, I've been lazy lately. "Big Elba… she's… dead."

I see his eyes widen a bit, but he continues leading the horse out. I move to the side and let him pass. Once he's out, he mounts and looks down at me. 

"Are you sure?"

I roll my eyes at the question, "Of course I'm sure. I stopped playing those game when I was six."

"You might've been bored." He says, and rides towards the tower. When he gets there I see him dismount and go inside. Sighing I hug myself and walk to the house. Poor Elba.

After what seems to me like few minutes, but it probably was about a few hours, I go back outside to see how Ingo is dealing. There's no one in the ranch. That means Elba was already taken to the same place all other dead animals of Hyrule are taken. Not even a proper burial. There's nothing to do now, so again I look around the ranch. _Oh Epona, where are you?_

And then, as if she could hear me, and sometimes I think she does, Epona trots into the ranch. Now see, that is one heck of a horse. Even when she was small I could tell she was special. My father used to say that if she was human she would probably look a lot like me, except with white streaks on her hair. I used to say that it was better if she stayed as a horse. That she would be better for humanity that way. I thought she was the best. Still do.

"Hello girl." I say as she stops besides me. I pass my hand and caress her. And she nuzzles me and I swear she wants me to mount her. Not one to shy away from a good galloping, I mount her and she walks a little. We start making laps around the ranch, just like the old days. 

There's nothing more exhilarating than running on a horse. The wind hits your face, and your feel almost as if nothing could stop you. It' a steady rhythm, and though not smooth, with Epona it almost feels like gliding. Almost. It's been a while since I rode Epona so freely. I look up and deduct that its still early enough for a ride outside. Increasing her speed, we leave the ranch. Open doors behind, open grass ahead. 

When I return to the ranch, almost sunset, and Epona is already roaming around, I realize that that afternoon I became poetic again. Something I don't quite understand, but it happened nevertheless. As I passed along Hyrule's fields I noticed the sky's darkening tones, and the way the grass moved. The songs the wind sung and the birds in the sky. Gag me please. I can't help it – I smile. 

Shaking my head at the silliness of it all I sit in the middle of the horse track. I used to come here all the time, before the whole depression thing, and sing. I remember it was the first place I talked to the Fairy Boy. It was the place I learned to ride Epona. The place my daddy explained, through his blushing and stuttering what the Madam had already told me about the birds and the bees. It was the place where I let go of my emotions. 

But right now?

Now I want to sing. 

Silly isn't it? I mean, nothing has changed. I haven't discovered some great truth, no one has shown me the light. I have no reason to sing my song. My mother's song. 

But who cares, if this is rock bottom, I only have room to go up. 

As my mouth forms the familiar words, I can almost make myself believe I've never been better. 

~Fin~

**Last Note:** Yes, it's over, and I know it doesn't really explain everything, but it seems like one of those stories where really, nothing was supposed to change it for the better. I'm not trying to teach anything and I like it like this. 

Thanks for reading. ;) 


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